


felled by you. held by you.

by heartstarmagick



Category: The Magicians (TV)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blowjobs, Enthusiastic Consent, Established Relationship, Hair-pulling, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Scratching, Sex Magic, Spanking, master/pet dynamic, sorry mom sorry god
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-23
Updated: 2020-01-24
Packaged: 2021-02-27 13:47:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22378207
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heartstarmagick/pseuds/heartstarmagick
Summary: The Monster has found itself in Beast Quentin's arms as his pet and bedwarmer. In part one, The Monster shows The Beast its true form. In part two, they explore the intersection of pain and pleasure.For the (January) Magicians Monthly Prompt (monster) !
Relationships: Beast Quentin/The Monster
Comments: 6
Kudos: 34
Collections: Magicians Monthly Prompt Challenge





	1. if i was born as a blackthorn tree

**Author's Note:**

> This is one of my favorite rare pairs possibly ever, they are THE power couple of the mf'ing century as far as i'm concerned.
> 
> The first part serves mostly to establish them as a dynamic a bit more--this pairing originated from an ongoing long term roleplay so there's a lot of lore I'm coming to this with ahaha, plus I just loved the idea. Part two is where the banging is, if you're here for that specifically (no judgement, they're hot.) 
> 
> The whole of this is dedicated to Bex, to whom I'm super grateful for a million different reasons. Thank you for putting up with my reply wait times, for making me ship this, and most importantly for always being so good to me whenever I really, really need it. I hope this lives up to the hype ♥ 
> 
> To everyone else, happy monster-ing!

“It’s not that I don’t _want_ to show you,” the Monster said carefully, looking to Quentin— _the Beast_ \--from its place on his lap. They were sitting on Quentin’s throne, the young man was visibly getting sort of irritated and the entity was finding it endearing, completely unafraid of the anger thrumming beneath the surface of Quentin’s skin. He waited while it searched the wall for answers, blinking a few times before turning its attention back to him, “You won’t be able to touch me when I’m in my—my true form.”

“Do you think I care about something like that?” There was a beat as the creature tried to find the reason _why_ that mattered. It only knew that it _did_. Quentin rolled his eyes, “Talk to me. Walk me through what you’re thinking.”

“I like being touched,” it stated simply. “That’s where it stops. Where my— _reasoning_? stops.”

Quentin grasped its wrist, shaking his head, “You have needs. That’s fine.”

“It’s not a _need_ ,” it tried to protest, scoffing, “I went a very long time without…any touch. I didn’t even _know_ touch until I took this form.”

A deadly smirk crossed Quentin’s features, something that would have scared anyone but the _literal fucking monster_ sitting on him. “Needs can evolve, and they can manifest themselves. Could you live again, another ten thousand years without me touching you?”

It knew the answer but didn’t like it. Quentin knew the answer too.

“It won’t be ten thousand years,” Quentin’s voice was more soothing than the creature had ever heard it before. “Nothing remotely close to that. I just want to see all of you exactly as you are, my pet. I just…want you to know that you don’t have to hide from me behind skin and bone.”

The hand on its wrist hadn’t left. The Monster looked down at it, then back up to Quentin’s face, “Is there a body that you would rather see me in, when I come back to—skin and bone?”

“Oh no,” Quentin smiled again—a deeply disturbing little grin that gave the creature arousal-laced chills. “No, I think _you_ suit him even better than he does. Plus already having this body means we won’t have to go out and find another, we can just put him to sleep and let you out to play.”

“I like this plan,” it nodded.

Quentin’s voice took on something of a seductive edge—the Monster had gotten to know the tone well. “Then when we’re all done we can do some of those things that feel _really_ good, to make up for not being able to touch you.” He let his other hand run up its inner thigh drawing a soft gasp, a shuddery little moan. “Though it seems like you could use a bit of that now, hm?”

“Please?”

“You know I’ll always take care of you, my sweet pet.”

-

Quentin had used magic to knock Eliot’s body unconscious, binding him so even if he did awaken, he couldn’t go anywhere. The Monster was ashamed of itself for sort of liking it as it focused on manifesting itself outside of the flesh form.

It didn’t take long before the entity found Quentin in his throne room, fiddling with some Chatwin trinket with patient fingers. Seeing the usually high-strung Quentin during his downtime was always a treat and while the formless being couldn’t _smile_ , it still felt the warmth associated with that feeling of fondness.

Because of the magic, Quentin could sense its presence immediately and sat up straighter, “You’re here, aren’t you?”

The Monster answered by floating closer, smoke suspended in the air like a gently shimmering, gold and black ghost. **_Can you hear me?_** It couldn’t speak, but it could communicate telepathically with less of an actual voice and more like the feeling of having heard a voice, the feeling of a rogue whisper one couldn’t quite place.

“Loud and clear,” Quentin answered, looking at the entity in awe. The Monster had never seen anyone look at it like that. He held his hand out to touch the distorted air which just made the being take all of its golden-black shimmering particles and surround the appendage up to the elbow, almost as if it were trying to give a hug. “You’re so _warm_. His skin runs warm too, but I guess that’s all you.”

 ** _I didn’t know I was warm before I met you_**. In its raw state, it could clearly feel the power and magic flowing through Quentin. While technically it couldn’t be aroused on a physical level, it could _very much_ feel the heady warmth that came along with it. That always happened whenever the being was reminded of the Beast’s power. **_What do you think?_**

Something like a smile turned Quentin’s lips, “Honestly? More spectacular than I could have imagined.” He held his hand up, as if examining it, and the entity’s form stayed still on his skin and allowed the close looks.

**_Your moths like it too._ **

If the Monster could have smiled over the reaction from the funny little creatures, it would have. It would, once it could again.

“They like you,” Quentin said, glancing around at some of the insects—the ones closest to them were suspended in mid-air, and the ones that could move flapped wildly up by the tops of the walls. “You seem to like them too, hm?”

**_One of the first things I noticed about you was the hold you have on them._ **

“That’s on purpose.” Quentin hummed, “I was thinking of laying down, would you like to join me?”

**_Like this?_ **

A smirk crossed Quentin’s features, “Just like this, yes.” He didn’t wait for an answer, leading the way to his lavish bedroom. The Monster was getting more and more familiar with this particular room (and was finding that it always loved the time spent here.) In a languid, fluid motion, Quentin was on the bed, taking his tie and vest off, expert fingers undoing his buttons. The being waited until he was laying on his back before moving over to him, stretching out its particles to completely cover Quentin in a hazy, smoky blanket. Quentin sighed in something like content, and despite not having eyes The Monster caught a smile—a real, actual smile, which gave it a whole new set of feelings of its own.

“Even like this you feel so warm.”

If it could have reached up and stroked Quentin on the jaw, it would have. It would have touched Quentin all over, it would have made him feel _so good_. Maybe there was something else it could do, though. **_And even still you’re so cold. I’ll keep you warm tonight._**

“Thank you, Pet,” he murmured, as the quiet warmth seemed to lull the Beast into something like repose.


	2. i'd want to be felled by you, held by you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to give a heads up about their dynamic--Beasty is very, very possessive, and The Monster loves and encourages it because his being Like That makes it feel like it belongs somewhere. If that is something that's squicky/triggering/a source of discomfort, please take whatever measures you need to keep yourself safe ♥

“You’re spending a lot of time here.”

The Monster blinked. It had, indeed, been here for the past week straight, taking up residence in one of the spare rooms (when it wasn’t in Quentin’s bedroom.) An array of Earth snacks surrounded it on the bed where it sat, looking out the window as it munched on pizza flavored _Combos_. “I could leave.”

Quentin rolled his eyes and sighed softly, stepping into the room. He took the chair by the desk, dragging it so it was directly in front of the being and sat down on it, “Usually you don’t spend more than a couple of days here at a time. You also seem…” 

“I _have_ been hungrier than usual.”

“Not in your usual spirits,” Quentin settled on, looking over the being with a sharp eye.

The Monster paused, setting down the salty cheesy pretzel snacks and sighing. “I had an interaction that I did not like.”

“So you’re _hiding_ from it here?”

“I’m _not_ hiding,” it wasn’t defensive, it spoke as if it were stating a fact (it was.) Quentin waited for an answer and the being scoffed, “Do you know what he _wanted_ from me?” Quentin impatiently shook his head. “He saw the marks that you left and seemed to think that he could tell me what to do. Keep me on a _tight_ _leash_. And you know—I tried, to be civil with him and the rest of the Earth humans, I _tried_ to ignore their shortcomings and I even tried to _help_ them and all they do is take, even when I do the things he likes. Even...when I do everything right.” The other Quentin, Earth Quentin, didn’t like the creature. It told itself time and time again while in bed with the Beast that it didn’t matter, but it was proving more difficult on Earth directly in front of the young man and with no other friends. It groaned, “He can’t find me here and I don’t want him to. If he wants his precious _vessel_ back, he’ll just have to be strong enough to take on both of us.”

Quentin took a beat, able to read the creature like a book. He stroked through its hair gently, attempting to tuck the curly locks behind its ear and stroking its cheek before his hand settled on its jaw. “Why do you let him hurt you when he doesn’t matter?”

“I’m not _letting_ him hurt me.”

“You’re hurting because of him, because he still has a hold on you. Doesn’t he? Don’t you know that I’m all that you need?”

“This is different. You’re different.”

Quentin’s grip on the being’s jaw tightened, “And you’re _my_ pet, not his. So if someone’s going to make you feel hurt, it’s going to be me.”

The Monster blinked, its voice soft with incredulousness, “You’re right.” Its eyes widened and brightened in wonder, “He can’t hurt me. You’re the only one who matters enough—to be able to hurt me.”

“There. Doesn’t that feel better?”

“I—actually still feel a little bit sick.”

“How many of those pretzels have you eaten?”

The being looked over at the five empty bags of _Combos_ of various flavors, “…Oh.”

-

“I was thinking about what you said.”

“About you eating too much of that processed cheese?”

The Monster scoffed, “I took it into consideration but I’m not changing my ways.” It shook its head, “I was speaking to what you said about pain.”

Quentin raised an eyebrow, shifting so he was sitting more correctly upright on his throne, heart thrumming in his chest with the possibilities the being may be laying before him. _Patience_. “What do you mean, Pet?”

Another pause. “I don’t want to feel pain but I think that I may need to. And I can only ask for that with someone I trust. I only trust you.” It looked down, Quentin’s eyes widening as the being cleared its throat. “I’d like you to hurt me, Sir.”

“Of course,” Quentin breathed, gesturing for the creature to take its place on his lap. It did. Quentin wrapped both arms around it, fingers slipping under its shirt at the small of its back and stroking over the soft skin gently, “What specifically do you crave from me, Pet? Teeth on your throat?”

The Monster nodded, “Scratches. On my back. Maybe a spanking.”

“Do you think that you’ve been bad?”

It looked down but shook its head, “No. _Badness_ is more about…wanting to be bad. I didn’t want it, to feel these—these feelings. The hurt. It happened unexpectedly and I had a hard time controlling it. That’s why I need it from you, Sir. Pain that matters.” _Pain that I know you’ll soothe for me,_ it wanted to add but it kept quiet. It didn’t want to risk ruining this.

“Pain can feel very grounding when done the right way. You know that I’m happy to give you what you need, my sweet. Sweater and shirt off, I want to look at you.” His voice took on a dominant edge at the command, and the creature didn’t need to be told twice to obey.

There were still bitten marks on pale skin that practically glowed in the low lighting of the throne room. The Beast took note of which ones were fading but that wasn’t a task for right now. He looked over the other appraisingly, a shark’s grin crossing his features as his pet stood before him and waited for its next instructions. Quentin moved to the very edge of his throne, “Let your pants fall to your knees and bend over my lap.”

Once the being was in position, Quentin rubbed gently over the soft skin of its ass and hummed, “Are you ready?”

“Yes, Sir.”

Quentin didn’t want to cause any serious damage (that’s what teeth were for) but did bring his hand down to give a hearty swat to his pet’s pretty cheeks. It drew an immediate moan—not just a soft sigh but a real and out-loud moan.

The being closed its eyes and felt itself settle into its proverbial skin. It wanted more, of _course_ it wanted more, but took a moment to revel in the feelings that it was being given right now. Quentin gave it another firm swat before moving his arms to shift the brunet, leaning to its neck and letting teeth graze carefully. “I sort of like that they’re not permanent. Gives us options,” Quentin murmured before sinking his teeth into a fading love bite, making the creature moan and whine softly.

Quentin used more teeth than usual—his pet had requested pain specifically, after all, but kept the marks to a minimum. He knew he’d be going back there before the night was out, and would rather spend the coming moments on a sweeter and more novel task. The Monster didn’t mind at all when it felt Quentin shifting it back into place, spread horizontally over his lap once more.

It felt the drag of sharp nails up its back and closed its eyes, moaning again. _This_ , this was exactly what it needed, and found itself so happy that it barely had to articulate so for Quentin to understand. Quentin always had a way of understanding and rising to meet its needs, and _that_ was why the entity would never let him go if it could be helped.

"He can't hurt you," The Beast assured again in a growl, nails digging into skin and teeth meeting shoulder. The Monster sighed-- _Fuck_ , he always knew what to say and how to say it. "He can't hurt you because I'm the one who matters."

It whined and it wanted, marveling at how Quentin could make the painful sensations feel something close to soothing.

And Quentin--his breath was practically racing over the trust and submission that the powerful creature was giving to him. Baring its neck and letting him _spank_ it...he’d never been more turned on. He wasn't sure what he possibly could have done to deserve the willing subservience of a _God_ and reveled in it. It didn’t go without the Monster noticing, "It seems like you like this as much as I do, Sir."

"This isn't about that, this is about you remembering your place here," Quentin snapped, though truthfully he could have almost as much fun if the pet decided to hold him down and take whatever it wanted from him.

That wasn't how they danced, though. Quentin brought his hand down again two more times, the slap of hand against ass seeming to echo almost as much as the pet's moaning. He rubbed over the irritated skin immediately afterwards, hand already ice cold. It caused another, quieter little groan.

"You're a sight like this, Pet," Quentin murmured, the hand soothing reddening cheeks sliding up the marred skin of its back, nails biting down a little bit and drawing out yet another lewd moan. 

Then he had an idea, the thought almost making him giddy, "You know, there are a number of different ways to have fun with pain. I could do more of this, or we could have some fun with overwhelming you."

"Overwhelming me?"

"Giving you so much pleasure that it hurts."

The creature smiled, "That sounds like fun."

"Let's go to my bedroom.”

They left the throne room, clothes discarded, Quentin taking its hand and leading it (though by now, it knew the castle like the back of its hand.)

It lay down on the bed, on its back just as Quentin coaxed. “Pretty thing,” Quentin murmured softly as his hands wandered over borrowed pale skin. He slowly stroked its length, giving a flick of his wrist and lingering at the tip, “You liked being spanked, didn’t you?”

“Yeah,” it came out like a whine, a breathy and pleading sound.

“And I _really_ liked spanking you.” He stilled his hand as if he were thinking before shifting his gaze to capture the other’s eyes. “Could I try something on you, Pet? It’s a spell, to make your body more sensitive when I touch it,” his voice was low and soothing and the creature could only nod because the offer was so intriguing. “I’ve never—but I promise, if you don’t like it I can undo it.”

“I trust you to take care of me, Sir. You’ve never given me a reason not to.”

That only made the Beast smile. The Monster watched in awe at the way that Quentin casted, his motions and fingers so smooth. It found itself shivering in want, but couldn’t be sure how much of that was its own and how much was the newly-cast spell. “How’s this?” He asked, running his hand up its stomach and circling one of its nipples.

The Monster tilted its head back in awe, keening. Everything that Quentin touched was electric and bright and overwhelming—even the areas that it never got those sensations from before. Part of it wasn’t sure that it wanted to be so thoroughly influenced by his magic but part of it, _most_ of it, loved the feeling and wanted to explore this new game as fully as possible. “It feels really good,” it said, panting softly. “I—I wasn’t sure but I really—it’s _so_ good,” its voice broke as Quentin gently pinched one of the nipples. It was such a small touch compared to some of the other touches Quentin had laid on it before, but already it felt something close to an explosion inside of it. It felt blood rushing to its hardness, the very beginnings of orgasm churning below its bellybutton.

“Hard to think straight, I’m sure.” Quentin was obviously so amused and beyond turned on right now, but tried not to let it show. With another devious little smirk, he moved a hand up and reached for curly, dark locks and pulled gently though it was more than enough to make the creature underneath it moan.

“I really like that,” it confessed, barely able to keep its eyes open.

“It’s another really good place to explore where pain meets pleasure,” Quentin said softly, digging his nails gently into the other’s scalp. The Monster’s entire body felt like it was on fire at the feeling of the hair pulling, Quentin’s motions and pulls drawing out another desperate little moan. The Beast reveled in it, in the feeling of bringing a God among gods to its knees and making it _want_ so vulgarly. “Precious thing,” he murmured affectionately, gripping and pulling hair once more before letting go in favor of stroking its cheek. Even that much drew out a soft moan, and the Beast was having a difficult time containing his lust, but reminded himself to be patient in favor of the sweet torture he planned on bestowing. He shifted to kiss and nip at the Monster’s neck, open mouth travelling down chest and stomach. Teeth grazed soft skin and his perfect pet _moaned_ for him, getting louder the further down he went.

Finally Quentin reached his prize, settling between its legs and reaching up to summon the lubricant he kept under his pillow. He coated his first two fingers, only teasing the ring of muscle for a moment before pressing them inside. “I’m going to suck you off, and while I do that I’m going to tease you with my other hand,” he said, catching the creature’s eye and working his fingers slowly. “Do not move your hips or I will stop and put a restraining spell on them. Understood?”

“ _Yes_ , Sir.” In truth, the pet liked being restrained—or rather, it liked playfully _fighting_ the restraints that its Master placed on it, because deep down it was a brat (and that was yet another reason why the Beast kept coming back for more.) It knew though that this was slightly more serious; maybe a week prior, it got too excited when Quentin was going down and caused him to make a positively terrifying gagging sound.

It was the first time that the being ever cared about hurting something. From that moment on, it _never_ wanted to hurt its Master again and would kill anyone who tried. 

Quentin began licking the familiar hardness in front of him, fingers not picking up any more speed. It was a _beautiful_ cock, every bit as beautiful as the pet who wore it. And hungrily, Quentin took it into his mouth, sucking deeply right away and moving his free hand up pale skin to reach its nipple once more. The way that the pet moaned his name made Quentin ache with overflowing desire, stealing a gaze at the heaving being arching its back and trying desperately to be obedient but also give in to the pleasure.

This was almost too much, Quentin had to close his eyes lest he wreck the silken sheets underneath them too early. Already he could feel his pet getting close, body writhing and voice breaking.

It didn’t take long for Quentin to find a suitable rhythm (given the assortment of tasks he was trying to do at the same time.) Another moment later, he twisted his fingers around to press not-too-gently on its prostate. The creature screamed and Quentin could feel its orgasm hit it like a freight train. It came down his throat but what really got Quentin was the way that it twitched and shivered and shook as it did, walls completely down and never more soft than right now. He didn’t stop his contact right away though, brushing lightly over the erogenous zones both outside and inside of it, and sucking another few moments. This was, after all, about exploring where pleasure ended and pain began. The creature felt it and moaned in a different way, needy and eager to go back to the feeling of gentle post-climax aftershocks.

Of course, Quentin relented but it was only to drink in the sight of his pet’s flushed skin and glazed eyes. It was something to behold, the mere visual stimulus was almost enough to bring Quentin himself to his knees but of course that wasn’t him, wasn’t _them_. He shifted and leaned to kiss the inside of its leg, voice soft but firm in that velvety way the creature would almost never say no to: “I want to fuck you, Pet.”

“I want you to fuck me, Sir,” its own voice was hurried, breathy, laced in satisfaction but ready to be taken over the top.

Quentin had every intention to.

“You’re fucking pretty,” Quentin groaned quietly, coating himself in the lube before carefully working himself inside. The Monster felt different than it did before and it showed in the way that it moaned—the closest it could get to describing it would be frayed at the edges and completely _raw_. Being fucked like this almost hurt, but it was a good and vulnerable kind of hurt that the creature had never been privy to.

It was pain that could be soothed, pain that even meant something.

 _He can’t hurt you because **I’m** the one who matters_.

“Oh, ohh,” it moaned, eyes fluttering open and closed as Quentin worked. It was covered in sweat already, but Quentin even in all of his composedness was starting to sweat too, and the creature just found that… _beautiful_. It smiled almost warmly, reaching up to gently coax Quentin into a kiss that bordered on feral. Teeth clashed and caught reddening lips and that hurt in a good way too, for both of them.

“You are _mine_ ,” Quentin growled into its ear, having only broken their kiss to move onto its neck. He sucked dark marks on the skin, parts of which were still tender from the last time that teeth had met it. It was when lips reached its collarbone that the pace of his hips quickened and he continued, “—and I want everyone to know that you are mine and _mine alone_. Including you, Pet.”

Between the friction, the contact to its hypersensitive skin, any maybe most importantly the feeling of being ravenously desired and claimed, the pet felt its body start to react. That almost hurt too, like physically it was exhausted but emotionally it _needed_ and finally its cock was catching up. It made a soft noise, and it could tell that Quentin felt the twitching because he smirked, “You’re starting to feel it again, aren’t you?”

“Yes, Sir,” it was breathless.

“You have always been so greedy. It’s one of my favorite things about you,” Quentin smirked, reaching between them to stroke it to full hardness. It happened in no time at all, and the pet was having a hard time thinking straight. Its body reacted in shivers and twitches all over, the overstimulation from before coupling dangerously with the sensitivity spell.

All of its nerves felt like they were firing all at once in lightning hot flashes. The Beast grinned wickedly as he languidly stroked and the pet tried in vain to catch its breath. It moaned and panted and growled Quentin’s name over and over and there came a point where it didn’t know where its own hands were or if its eyes were open—all it knew was Quentin touching and endless strengthening waves of complete and utter _ecstasy_ that burned hot at its core, Quentin _growling_ and the pain of teeth but the consuming euphoria that sparkled and stabbed and tore it apart at the seams.

It didn’t realize that everything blanked and it was completely _gone_ into a void of complete rapture until it came back. The first thing it noticed was its throat aching; the next was tears on its cheeks. The Monster wiped at them and laughed softly, looking to Quentin who was carefully wiping its stomach with a warm, dampened cloth. “There you are,” he said softly. 

“Did you finish, Sir?”

“Of course I did,” he paused, finishing up the cleaning. He traced over the creature’s inner wrist—it felt normal, the spell must have been taken off. A smile turned Quentin’s lips, “That was the loudest I’ve ever had you screaming for me, Love.”

“That was the most…the most _intense_ —I’ve never felt anything close to that,” its voice was quiet, and though it had been cleaned up it was still thoroughly _wrecked_ all over. It was so tired, it had never been so tired before and it only got much worse as Quentin crawled into bed and pulled the blanket over them. Silently, he took his pet into his arms and stroked gently through its hair.

“I don’t like sleeping, but I think I could like this,” he murmured.

“I think I could too.” The Monster’s eyes were already closed, its breathing already evening out.

“Rest then, Pet. Penance is hard work.” 


End file.
